


A Request for Invitation

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: (Or is it... ;), Birthday, Birthday Party, Cute, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, With A Twist, no magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for A Monthly Rumbelle non-smut prompt “Be My Guest.” Mr. and Mrs. Gold are trying to make sure their daughter’s first birthday is absolutely perfect, but a spurned invitation just might lead to some trouble. </p><p>A Rumbelle/Sleeping Beauty remix</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Request for Invitation

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Belle asked. She tried valiantly to keep her expression solemn.

 

Bae simply nodded, extending his arms. Into them Belle piled a whole slew of card-stock, each cut into an individual card. They were fairly plain at this point. White, pink trim, a bold font that read: _Be Our Guest for Rose’s First Birthday!_ and followed by boring stuff like dates and times. Bae ignored all that, honing in on the blank spaces just begging for his finger-paints and gel pens.

 

“Each one needs the Baeden Gold seal of approval,” Belle said, losing the battle and laughing fully. She ruffled her son’s hair. “Have fun, just be sure not to color over any of the text, okay? We want everyone to know where and when the party is.”

 

“Mooooom. The whole town knows. Even _Grace_ knows.”

 

“... does she? Hmm.”

 

Grace Jefferson was a lovely girl, just a year younger than Bae, though she was known for... well, being a bit spacey. Like her father. Whether that was somehow genetic or a learned trait, Belle didn’t know, but the point was well made, even reassuring. If young Grace had caught wind of their party then she’d done her due diligence in spreading the word.

 

Invitations never hurt though. Belle’s mother may not have lived long enough to teach her much, but she’d learned that at least.

 

As well as how to love your kids.

 

Belle dropped a kiss to Bae’s hair, chuckling as he squirmed. His own opinions regarding the invitations had already faded, replaced by a need to color in the dinosaur he’d already drawn in vibrant pink. Belle peered over and saw that this was Archie’s invitation. He’d like pink dinosaurs. Probably.

 

“Belle, a hand?”

 

Gold came thumping in, stamping water from his shoes as he tried to close up his umbrella without dropping the groceries. In his other hand a bundle of yellow blanket and red cheeks gurgled out at Belle.

 

“Hello, darling,” she cooed, taking Rose from him. She went willingly into Mom’s arms and Gold let out an equally relieved sigh.

 

“Never again,” he groused, shaking water from his hair. “I’m perfectly able to pick out food for a birthday party without our daughter’s assistance.” He lessened the criticism by stroking his thumb across her curls. Gold’s voice dropped a bit, growing warming. “ _Someone_ kept stealing food we hadn’t paid for yet.”

 

“Oh no.” Belle laughed. “She couldn’t actually get anything open, could she?”

 

“I could!”

 

Bae held up another invitation, this one with some sort of bulging person curving around the _Our Guest_ text. Belle didn’t realize it was a strongman until Bae flexed his own twig-like arms.

 

Gold set the bags down on the counter, careful that the droplets didn’t ruin Bae’s work. “You can now,” he said. “But you were just as tiny as Rose when you were her age. It was just a few strawberries,” he whispered to Belle. Then he paused. “And attempts on a dragon fruit, of all things.”

 

Belle spluttered at the image.

 

“Did I have a first birthday party?” Bae asked. He looked up only long enough to wave at Rose, then went back to what looked like a psychedelic sunset. Belle was glad he was engaged in drawing. It meant he missed the fierce expression passing over his Dad’s face.

 

“No,” Gold said shortly. “Milah didn’t think it necessary.”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

Luckily Bae was still too young to catch all the implications in that. Sure, Belle had gotten a bit of kind teasing about this party, why throw such an extravagant affair for someone who wouldn’t even remember it? Rose would have just as good a time if they stayed in and she got to stick lots of fun things into her mouth. But they’d have pictures for when she was old—video too if Belle could remember to take some—and she could admit that the party was more for her family and neighbors anyway. They all deserved a little fun, no matter how contrived.

 

Milah though? She would have never thought it necessary, no matter what her child’s age. Why spend the money on fun when you could spend it on cocktails?

 

Belle turned away so Bae wouldn’t see her expression either, then relaxed as Rose began gnawing on her blouse. She wouldn’t let anyone ruin this day. Not even Milah.

 

“You okay?” she asked, nodding at Gold’s leg. He waved her off, collapsing onto one of the kitchen stools and massaging at his knee. No doubt the weather wasn’t helping it any. Belle ignored him, moving to replace his hands with her free one and Gold smiled.

 

“You think this rain will let up?” she murmured, pressing her nose into Gold’s hair. Rose babbled and grasped at the long strands too. That wouldn’t do...

 

“It’s supposed to be lovely tomorrow.”

 

“It’d better be.”

 

“Considering you’ve invited the whole town? I hope so.”

 

Gold was looking at the mound of invitations still piled in front of Bae, despite his diligent scribbling. Belle could see a series of colorful stars, a dog, what might have been an attempt at Rose herself... Granny’s invitation had a giant pie on it, which seemed pretty fitting.

 

“It’s not the whole town,” Belle said primly. She deposited Rose in her high chair. “In fact, there’s actually one less invitation than ‘the whole town’—”

 

“No.”

 

She worked hard not to slam down a sippy cup. “It’s rude, Gold.”

 

“It’s common sense. Do you really want that woman at our daughter’s first birthday party?”

 

Belle glared. The truth was she didn’t and Gold damn well knew it. That didn’t lessen the guilt she felt though, to say nothing of the embarrassment... not that anyone else in Storybrooke would blame her. Still.

 

“It’s just not right,” Belle said. The mood in the kitchen was tense for a moment, until she jumped, Gold unexpectedly back on his feet and massaging her shoulders.

 

He leaned into her hair like she’d done moments before, moving down to kiss Belle’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I just want the day to be perfect for Rose. For us. Just... claim you forgot her invitation or something. Bake her some apology sweets if you want. Perhaps Devil’s Food Cake?”

 

“Haha,” Belle said. She still nuzzled up into him though, eventually sighing. “I just don’t feel right ignoring her like this. You know she’ll catch wind eventually. No one can keep a secret in this town.”

 

“Especially when you’ve depleted the drug store of its streamers.”

 

“I have n—”

 

“And its balloons.”

 

“Gold.”

 

“To say nothing of the fact that you’ve had me purchase enough for, oh,” he glanced towards the grocery bags. “Five cakes?”

 

“That’s enough out of you,” Belle growled, turning to thump Gold across the chest. It actually made him waver a bit, even her tiny slap sending him off balance. “Fine,” she said softly, expression quickly turning concerned. “One of those cakes can be a donation, now why don’t you go rest a bit while I take care of these monsters.”

 

“I’m not a monster!” Bae said indignantly, waving a marker.

 

“Oh my mistake. A lusus naturae then.”

 

“‘was that?”

 

“A monster.”

 

Bae blew a raspberry. Rose copied him—albeit with a lot more saliva—and Belle was left to worry about what else Bae might teach her over the years.

 

Precious monsters indeed.

 

“You sure?” Gold asked. He ran a hand through Belle’s hair. “I know there’s still a lot to get done before tomorrow. I won’t lie, a brief nap would be wonderful after that excursion, but I don’t want to overburden you.”

 

Belle shook her head. “The real rush will come tomorrow morning. I’ll just be baking until Bae finishes, then delivering these before dinner. Besides, I think ‘overburden’ was inevitable once this little darling came along...” She paused. “I hope you’re okay with Granny’s tonight.”

 

“Delivered by you? Practically a gourmet meal.”

 

Gold leaned in for a kiss, running his hands tenderly over Belle’s stomach. She hadn’t quite managed to lose the weight after delivering Rose, but that certainly hadn’t stopped Gold. Belle indulged for a moment before gently pushing him away. Rose was demanding food now, her tiny fists cracking on the plastic highchair tray, and frankly there was nothing romantic about that.

 

“Never done,” Belle groaned, but it came out mostly as a laugh.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“I’m done!” Bae announced, dramatically dumping another card onto the ‘finished’ pile. That seemed to be Gold’s cue. He left a final peck on Belle’s nose and meandered up the stairs. She pulled some canned pears out of the fridge.

 

“C’mon, birthday girl. Scarf this down so I can make your cake.”

 

***

 

The rest of the afternoon went surprisingly well. Belle was able to feed Rose with minimal fuss—not as lucky in feeding Bae some carrot sticks, but she was learning to chose her battles. The cards were finished just as she was pulling a chocolate cake from the oven (boxed mix, sue her) and by the time it was cool enough to dump from the pan her kitchen windows were streaming sunlight. Belle tucked a sleepy Rose into an equally sleepy Gold’s arms, parked Bae in the den with a stack of summer reading, and left the house with a promise to bring back burgers.

 

Belle smiled up at the sky. She took a breath and began.

 

Archie was out walking Pongo, a now useless umbrella slung over his wrist. He hailed Belle first, offered her a gumdrop for the road, and happily accepted the invitation, promising to be in their backyard at 1:00pm sharp tomorrow. He adored the pink dinosaur.

 

Mary Margaret was out too, lounging on her yard, listening to some podcast and rubbing a hand over her own straining belly—due any day now. That wouldn’t stop her from attending though. No way. Was Rose really _one_? She could hardly believe it, neither could Belle, and the two of them lost a good fifteen minutes in disbelief and reflection. Mary Margaret kindly took David, Emma, and Henry’s invitations, using them as fans as she waved Belle off.

 

August was out tinkering with his motorcycle and just had to give Belle a hard time about the splatter of batter in her hair. Killian seemed a little unsure, but quickly accepted the invite once he heard that Emma would be going. Dr. Whale wasn’t Belle’s favorite neighbor, not by a long shot, but even he accepted his card with something resembling manners. By the time she’d traipsed down to the diner Belle was more than half done and Granny’s held the rest of the people she needed. Belle handed out card after card eagerly, ending with Granny herself.

 

The woman shook her head. “It’s been a _year_?” she said.

 

Belle wearily settled onto a stool, accepting a glass of water from Ruby. “I know. I can hardly believe it. And Bae will be _six_ next month.”

 

“Good luck to you.”

 

Belle scoffed. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it. Gold’s and my determination, that’s what it is.”

 

“Determination?”

 

“Well, pig-headed stubbornness on his end.”

 

Granny threw her head back and laughed while Ruby leaned across the counter. She poked Belle solidly in the arm.

 

“Why do you call him that?” she asked, nose wrinkled like the milk had gone sour. “ _Gold?_ ”

 

Belle shrugged. “He hates his first name.”

 

“Oooo, what is it?”

 

“No way.” Belle smiled around the water glass.

 

“Yes way. Spill.”

 

“Nope. He’ll remain ‘Gold’ to you, Ruby, forever and always.”

 

“Can’t say I want to know the bastard that long.” She kept poking. “And what, you just call him that all the time? Even in _bed_?” Ruby yelped as Granny whacked her across the back of the neck.

 

“Don’t be crass,” she snapped. “... though I wouldn’t mind knowing the boy’s first name either. For blackmail purposes, you understand. For when he’s being more of a shit about the rent than usual.”

 

Belle just chuckled, well accustomed to her neighbor’s worn complaints. They weren’t meant in true animosity anymore. Usually.

 

“Noted. Buy me a few drinks some time and maybe you’ll learn it.”

 

Granny snorted. “Sounds like a way for you to get free drinks, but I’ll take it. Here, trade ya.”

 

She pushed a bag of burgers and fries across the counter as Belle handed her the last two invitations, snickering at Granny’s fake rage—Bae could apparently depict a crotchety old woman as well as a pie—and Ruby cooing at the scribbled wolf. It wasn’t a bad way to part with friends and when Belle left the sun was just getting low, though the skies still remained beautifully clear.

 

Belle passed town hall on her way home. There were lights on in the house next door. She forcefully swallowed down her guilt.

 

She’d bake another cake next week.

 

That was fine.

 

***

 

The next afternoon—1:00pm sharp—everything the Golds had been working towards was in full swing: streamers and balloons galore covered their yard, a table laden with cake and other unhealthy treats stood center stage, another table was equally weighed down with presents, good music, better company, and above all the birthday girl, screaming in delight as her brother raced by with her balanced on his shoulders.

 

“They’re going to crash and break something,” Gold muttered. His tone was light, but Belle felt his fingers digging deep into her side.

 

She shrugged. “That would be an eventful end to the day.”

 

“I’ll settle for skinned knees and ice-cream headaches.”

 

Belle looked up at her husband fondly. Sometimes it startled her, this unexpected domesticity. Gold could be so harsh, so cold... never to her of course, but at the rest of the world who only knew his suits as “armor” and his business practices as “unreasonable.” She’d once worried that he’d never let anyone else see this side of him, yet Gold had apparently found a compromise: striving to maintain fear and keep a party hat firmly on his head, all at the same time. Leroy had certainly looked like he was risking life and limb when he jokingly asked for Gold’s cane to use on the piñata. But still, he’d asked. It was certainly more than Belle had ever expected.

 

The party too, despite her excessive efforts. Everything was going off without a hitch and Rose was in high spirits, loving the attention even if she couldn’t understand the reason behind it. She was the picture of her father with bright eyes and ruddy cheeks, Gold with a barely perceptible smile gracing his lips, his knuckles now going white around his cane—

 

—wait.

 

Belle watched his smile plummet.

 

“That witch,” he hissed.

 

And then Belle saw her, pushing her way between Jefferson and Archie, blazing an unwanted path. It should have looked ridiculous, Regina in her pin-skirt suit and three inch heels, glowing beside a bouquet of animal balloons, but all Belle felt was a sick churning in the pit of her stomach.

 

Town pariah or no, they should have just given her a damn invitation. She probably would have rejected it anyway. Now Belle had the awful sense that a Sorry Cake wasn’t going to cut it.

 

“I’ll send her on her way,” Gold said, but Belle shook her head, putting herself between her husband and trouble. No, she’d make this right. Belle took a step forward in her own heels, feeling like she was squaring off for something. She mustered up a false smile.

 

“Regina—” she said and the sky crackled with thunder.

 

Belle slapped a hand over her mouth a second after she let a curse slip. The sky had been clear all day and it decided to storm _now_? Quite literally now—one moment there was only blue sky, then thunder, then a mass of grey clouds came in a wave over the house, carried on winds that sent the streamers flailing and Belle’s skirt up above her knees. The rain started just as suddenly and he guests made a mad scramble for gifts and purses, everyone sprinting for the house. Belle allowed herself a moment of shock at the sudden change before Gold’s hand was pressed insistently at her back, wordlessly urging her to help him find their kids.

 

Belle nodded for them both, blinking against the sheets of rain. She caught a last glimpse of Regina just standing there before she and Gold turned away.

 

***

 

Regina flicked a wet strand of hair out of her face.

 

“Honestly,” she said. “You’d think they’d _melt_ by the way they run.”

 

With the sudden darkness and wind it would be easy to think she was speaking to herself, but in fact there was a rather young infant—one year old to be exact—sitting by Regina’s feet. She’d fallen from her brother’s shoulders when the rain started, separated, crawling, wailing, and ended up here… perhaps exactly where she should be. Regina bent and picked Rose up.

 

“Oh enough already. Come on. There, there and all that...”

 

Stern and stony, but Regina’s arms were unexpectedly gentle as she cradled Rose, her hands well accustomed to supporting an infant’s head and back. She rocked Rose a moment, whispering things that she knew couldn’t be heard above the wind, and after a moment Rose began to settle. The rain was actually warm. The scary thunder had stopped, and the woman’s arms weren’t so bad a place to be.

 

“What was that your father said?” Regina asked her, letting Rose suck on the tip of her hair. It was wet anyway. “A witch? Fool doesn’t realize what he’s saying. Besides, like he has any right to toss out terms, not with a name like _Rumford_... ah, don’t tell him I know that. I do like my secrets.” Rose seemed to gurgle in response. “Exactly. Child, two of the most useful skills you can learn in this life are discretion and reading lips. They’ll get you farther than any promises, I’ll tell you that.”

 

Regina started towards the house. The wind didn’t wrinkle her suit and her shoes never sank in the grass.

 

“I hear it’s your birthday. Congratulations. Really, you deserve it if you’ve survived a whole year in their care. A rather... _unnatural_ storm starts up and they have no idea where you are? Tsk tsk.”

 

Or perhaps not exactly. Belle had followed Bae’s route behind the house and was now making her way quickly back to the front, hand up dramatically over her eyes and calls just barely audible. There were only moments remaining now and Regina intended to make use of them. She dipped her lips close to Rose’s ear and smiled.

 

“I’m not evil, darling, and it’s certainly not your fault your parents are _rude_. So how about it, will you accept my birthday gift?”

 

“Rose!”

 

Belle had spotted them now. She hurried forward and Rose stretched her little hand out towards her mother. Her eyes remained locked with Regina’s though.

 

“ _May you never lack in trust, may you embrace difference, and when the time comes, may you grow to accept_ all _those around you._ ”

 

A spark appeared at the tip of Regina’s finger before sinking into Rose’s skin, directly over her heart. It went unnoticed by Belle, her arms already reaching for her daughter. Behind her, barely visible in the doorway, stood Gold.

 

“What terrible weather,” Regina commented, handing her over. “So unexpected! A pity about the party. Still, count your blessings and all that. Someone could have gotten hurt.”

 

The words weren’t said with any malice, far from it. Still, Belle felt something cold run down her spine that had nothing to do with the rain. She nodded slowly.

 

“Yes...” She clutched Rose, looked to Gold, and then determinedly looked back. “Thank you, Regina. Would... would you like to come in?”

 

Regina’s smile widened. “Why yes, I think I would.”

 

They walked towards the house together. A mother, an outcast, and a child with a gift.

 

“I’d also like an invitation in a year’s time, for Rose’s second birthday, you understand.

 

“You never know how far a little kindness can go.”

 

 

 


End file.
